Mara's POV
The safe opens with a soft click.
I'm in Declan's private study at three in the morning, wearing one of his shirts and nothing else. He is asleep upstairs, finally exhausted after another round that left claw marks on his headboard. The mate bond makes him trust me just enough to be careless.
Inside the safe are files I have been searching for since I signed that contract. Property records. Banking transfers and there, a leather folder marked "Thorne Acquisition."
My hands shake as I pull it out.
The first page shows the foreclosure order. Dated five years ago. Signed by Richard Cross, Declan's father. Relief floods through me for half a second. It wasn't Declan. He did not destroy my pack.
Then I see the second page.
A memo from Declan to his father. Dated one week before the foreclosure.
"Proceed with Thorne seizure. Eliminate all resistance. I'll handle the legal complications."
My wolf goes silent inside me. The paper crumples in my grip.
He knew. He helped plan it. Every word out of his mouth has been a lie.
"Find what you were looking for?"
I quickly turn around as I didn't think he will be awake any time soon. Declan leans against the doorframe, wearing only pajama pants. His expression is unreadable.
"You said it was your father." My voice shakes. "You said you were just covering it up."
"I said he destroyed your pack. Which is true." He steps into the study. "I helped him do it. That is the part I left out."
"Why?" The word comes out broken.
"Because your father was moving drugs through his territory. He was using pack land as a distribution hub." Declan's eyes are cold. "My father wanted to buy him out quietly. Your father refused, so we took it."
"That is a lie."
"It's not." He moves to the desk and pulls out another file. Throws it at my feet. "Police reports. DEA surveillance. Your father was in deep with a cartel. He was going to get your entire pack killed or imprisoned."
I don't pick up the file. "You are lying to justify what you did."
"I'm telling you the truth you don't want to hear." He crosses his arms. "We gave him a choice. Sell and walk away clean, or we expose everything and the feds take you all down. He chose pride. So we chose for him."
"You destroyed our lives."
"I saved your lives." His voice rises. "Your father would have gotten you all killed. At least this way you survived."
I laugh. It sounds hysterical even to my own ears. "Survived? My mother works three jobs. My brother can barely afford rent. I've been living under a fake name for five years. You call that saving us?"
"You are alive. That is more than you would have been."
I throw the folder at him. Papers scatter everywhere. "I hate you."
"I know." He doesn't move. "But you're still not leaving."
"Watch me." I head for the door.
He blocks my path. "Mara…"
"Get out of my way."
"No." His hand wraps around my arm. "You signed a contract. Six months. We're barely through one."
I try to pull free. He doesn't let go. "The contract is void. You lied about the terms."
"I never lied. I said I'd forgive your family's debt. That deal stands." His grip tightens. "You want to hate me? Fine. Hate me for six months. Then you're free."
"I'm free now." I shove him. He barely moves.
"You're mine now." He backs me against the wall. "The bond doesn't care what I did five years ago. It doesn't care that you hate me. We're stuck with each other."
"I'd rather die."
His hand slams against the wall beside my head. "Don't say that."
"Why? Afraid you'll actually have to feel something?" I meet his eyes. "You don't get to care about me after what you did."
"Too late." His other hand cups my face, thumb brushing my cheek. "I already do."
I slap him. Hard enough that his head turns.
He looks back at me, jaw tight, and then his mouth crashes into mine. It's not gentle. It's angry and desperate and wrong. I bite his lip hard enough to draw blood.
He groans and lifts me. My legs wrap around his waist on instinct, the mate bond overriding every logical thought. I hate that my body wants him. Hate that even now, I'm pulling him closer.
We don't make it to the bedroom. He takes me right there against the study wall, my nails raking down his back, his teeth on my throat. It's violent and raw and when I come I'm crying.
Afterwards, he carries me to the kitchen and sets me on the counter. Neither of us speaks. He pours water and hands me the glass. I throw it at the wall.
"I will never forgive you," I say.
"I don't need you to forgive me." He steps between my legs again, hands on my thighs. "I just need you to stay."
"Why? So you can control me like you controlled everything else?"
"No." His forehead rests against mine. "Because losing you would destroy me and I can't afford it to happen."
"Good." I push him back and slide off the counter. "I hope it does."
I walk out of the kitchen and head for the guest room. Lock the door. I slide down to the floor.
And I pull out the burner phone I have been hiding in my bag for two weeks. It might finally come to good use.
I text Kieran's number: *We need to meet. I have information.*
His response comes in seconds: *Tomorrow. Midnight. Old warehouse on Fifth.*
I stare at the message, then delete it.
The mate bond burns in my chest like a wound that won't heal.